The Winding Roads That Led Me Here
by OneLessTraveledBy
Summary: It's been five years since Santana joined Rachel and Kurt in New York City, determined to find herself. Becoming an officer for the NYPD finally gave her the purpose she was looking for until a tragic event ruined everything. Out of options, Rachel and Kurt are forced to take desperate measures to save their friend. Even if that means bringing in someone from her past.
1. Burn Like Coal And Dry Like Tears

Hello new readers,

After months and months of being a silent observer of some amazing, well-crafted stories, I have decided to make the jump and start my own. Hopefully it draws you all in and you want to stick around for awhile.

I welcome all constructive feedback, so feel free to read and review.

Oh, and you can call me Kay.

* * *

Standing under glaring neon lights, the petite brunette took a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn't an unfamiliar spot for her to be in lately, especially these past few months. She knew exactly what was waiting for her on the other side of that door but that still didn't make it any easier.

More time was wasted in front of these lights than the ones she dreamed of on Broadway.

Sensing her friend's anxiousness to go in, she pried open the heavy door and followed a familiar path to the bar.

A husky man in his late thirties was standing behind it, his attention quickly switching from the bar patrons to the incoming duo.

"Rachel, Kurt." Mike grunted in welcome, moving to fill a pitcher of beer with practiced hands.

"Thanks for calling us, Mike." She half-shouted, reaching an open spot at the bar. The techno mix blasting throughout the room was already making her ears hurt.

"No problem." He replied sincerely.

"I'm afraid to ask but…how bad is it tonight?"

"Bad enough to call you. I tried to keep an eye on her but we got really busy early on. And she has no problem getting other people to buy her drinks when I cut her off."

"Yes, how fortunate for her." She deadpanned.

Mike just shrugged.

"So where is she?" she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd for a sign of her friend. The middle of the bar held a giant dance floor filled with dancing couples. Some were stumbling awkwardly to the beat of the music while others grinded heavily on their partners.

Kurt barely held in a grimace when a nearby couple started sloppily making out.

"Not sure, but some red-headed girl was with her." Mike replied before walking over to a new group of customers.

"Perfect" Rachel muttered to herself.

"Let's just get this over with. I promised Adam I'd meet him for brunch tomorrow and nothing says unattractive like bags under your eyes." Kurt complained, staring at his reflection in an empty glass.

With a quick turn of her heel, Rachel stormed through the dance floor, forcing Kurt to chase after her.

"Rachel, I think I see her over there!" He exclaimed, pushing a grinding couple away from him in disgust.

Skirting to an immediate stop, she surveyed the scene before and shared a look with Kurt. She walked right up to the slumped form sitting at an empty table in the corner. The person, clearly female, was face down on her folded arms, empty bottles decorating the table around her. By the amount visible, Rachel knew she had been there for a while.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Rachel screamed, her voice several pitches too high for the surrounding customers.

Clad in dark navy pants, black boots and a light blue button up that looked partially undone, Santana barely opened her eyes to respond.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm having a drink, Berry."

"A drink?!" She sputtered, her hands waiving wildly at the empty bottles.

With a groan, Santana lifted up her head and glared.

"Drinks, sorry! I didn't know that was a crime. You would think I would know that, being a police officer and all." Santana gritted out.

"Drinks in your uniform?! Are you crazy, Santana?" You could get in so much trouble for this. You could be demoted…or..or fired! Where is the rest of it?" She hissed angrily, her eyes scanning the nearby tables in case someone overheard.

"I left my jacket in my locker at the station. Can't call it in if I don't have a badge number, Midget. Suzie has my hat though…or Sarah? I don't remember." She slurred, grabbing an almost empty bottle and finishing it off quickly.

"She's hot though." She said as an afterthought.

As if on cue, a girl wearing low-cut jean shorts, a halter top and a NYPD police hat stumbled over to the scene. She quickly plopped herself down on the Latina's lap as if nothing was happening.

"Hey baby, can we get out of here?" she whined annoyingly, her hands wandering up the wrinkled polo, a now clear explanation as to the half-undone shirt.

"Um, excuse me, but clearly she is no shape to go off and do whatever nefarious activities you have planned for her. We're here to take her home immediately, so please return her property so we can leave." Rachel rattled off.

The girl just stared blankly.

"This is getting ridiculous. Excuse me honey, but you need to get out of here before my little friend blows a gasket." Kurt said calmly, his hand extended to help the girl off Santana's lap.

Eying the offered hand warily, the girl turned towards Santana and whispered loudly,

"What's with the bitch and the queen?"

Retracting his hand quickly, Kurt raised his eyebrows in offense.

"Oh no, you didn't-"

"Kurt!"

"They're my live-in buzz kills. Or they used to be" Santana muttered, her hands stopping the girl from continuing up her shirt. "Listen Sandy-"

"It's Jenny." The girl interrupted quickly. Clearly this wasn't the first time her name was confused.

"Jenny, sorry. Let me talk to tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb real quick and then I'll meet you outside, kay?" Santana suggested, using the table to lift herself up into a standing position.

The girl scoffed loudly and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Santana began to lead them away in a quick-paced stroll through the bar but her left leg crumbled beneath her, causing her to tip over. Rachel and Kurt rushed over, each taking an arm and helping her to the exit.

As soon as they stepped through the door, Santana pushed away from them violently.

"I am sick and tired of you two playing babysitter. I don't live with you anymore remember? I'm not your problem." Santana reminded them hotly, ignoring the dirty looks from passersby.

"We're still your friends Santana, even if you've been a terrible one lately."

"Give me a break, Berry, you kicked me out. Some friends you are."

"Oh, and I'm sure we did that for no other reason than the coldness in our hearts."

"Stop the dramatics, Rachel. We're not in high school anymore."

"Fine, you want honestly, I'll give it to you gladly" Rachel shouted, her arms crossing in front of her

"Rachel…" Kurt whispered behind her, attempting to rein her in. A drunken Santana was not someone he wanted to pry off of Rachel's soon to be deceased corpse.

Ignoring his warning Rachel turned towards Santana and took a step forward, unfazed when Santana met her halfway.

There were only inches apart now.

"You were out of control Santana. Still are. We were sick of the lying, the hidden bottles, the late nights worrying to death about you. You were supposed to leave and get yourself together."

"I _am_ together. I go to work, I have my own place, and I'm getting by on my own. No thanks to you two." Santana replied harshly, her face centimeters from Rachel's.

"Oh, is that what you're doing? You look like you have it all worked out, officer Cuervo."

"What did you call me?" Santana responded slowly, her fists curling at her side. A quick glance at Kurt's panicked expression helped her loosen them. But only barely.

"I don't have to listen to this from you anymore. Leave me the hell alone!" Santana threatened before turning around and walking away.

Rachel blinked quickly, her gaze switching from cold anger to desperation.

"What about the nightmares, Santana." Rachel said loud enough for Santana to hear.

Kurt gasped behind her but Rachel pressed on.

"I bet you still haven't seen anyone about them. It's what's causing all this and you know it. You're not over what happened to Hayley and you're destroying yourself because of it. She wouldn't you to keep doing this to yourself Santana. Hayley looked up to you, She—"

"Stop!" Santana screamed, whipping around to confront them again. "Stop saying her name. You don't know what happened that night. What I went through…what she went through…" Santana trailed off brokenly, tears forming around her eyes.

"I know that ever since we got the call that you were shot on duty and had to visit you in the hospital, you've been like this. Taking as many dangerous shifts as you can…basically begging for them so you don't have to deal with your feelings. Drowning yourself at these bars and going out with people that aren't good for you. You're going to get yourself killed Santana! It could be at the end of a gun barrel or a bottle for all you care and we don't want to see that happen! We care about you too much." Rachel gasped out, her emotions take hold of her.

Santana gaped openly at Rachel's forwardness, unable to respond for a few minutes.

"Well stop. Stop fucking caring about me then." Santana whispered finally.

Rachel's face instantly softened at the sound of the other girl's voice trembling.

"Do you know what happens to people who care about me?" Santana continued. "They leave or they get hurt. My parents, my abuela, Hayley..." Santana choked out the last name, wiping her eyes frantically on her sleeve.

"Brittany…" Kurt finished before stepping back from the look Santana gave him.

"Brittany did both." She replied bitterly. "So why don't you take a lesson from them and leave too. Because I'm not worth it, I'm really not."

Suddenly the door to the bar slammed open, revealing the red-headed girl from earlier. Clearly still drunk, she glanced at Kurt and Rachel's frozen faces before her unfocused eyes landed on Santana.

"So…are you ready to go now?" She asked rudely, her body swaying in the wind.

"Yeah…yeah, we're done here." Santana said quietly before she beckoned the girl over.

Kurt and Rachel watched them stumble over to catch a cab, the yellow lights leaving them in the alone on the cold sidewalk

It felt like hours before Rachel felt Kurt's hand on her shoulder, signaling it was time to head home.

They made the trek to their loft in complete silence. Each one adrift in their own thoughts on their lost friend and how to find her again. By the time they slide their front door open and began taking off their shoes, Rachel had had enough.

"We can't do this by ourselves anymore, Kurt." She said quietly, stripping off her jacket and placing it on the arm of the couch.

Running a hand through his now haggard locks, Kurt answered back.

"I know…it's too much. But I don't know what else we can do to help her? Especially when she doesn't want it."

"She doesn't want it from us…but maybe-"

"Rachel, we can't. We promised Santana we wouldn't talk about her to anyone. Plus it's been five years. We don't even know where she is."

"I do." Rachel admitted to a stunned Kurt. "I've been keeping in touch these past few months. She's been wanting to come up for months now and frankly, I've run out of excuses for why she shouldn't.

"I could think of few." Kurt muttered quickly before speaking up. "I don't know if that's a good idea Rachel. We might make things a whole lot worse. If that's even remotely possible."

"We have to try…she's broken, Kurt. And we can't fix her." Rachel admitted softly, her voice shaking with emotion.

Meeting her eyes, he could only nod.

"I'll call her tomorrow."


	2. And Leave You Standing In The Dark

Hello!

Thank you all for the warm welcome and support for this first chapter. I certainly hope I can meet all of your expectations. ^_^

This chapter brings us back to the beginning of my story and Santana's personal journey through life, love, and hopefully the pursuit of happiness. Although I'm sure you are all desperately wondering when Brittany or other characters will be arriving, I promise laying down the story foundation will be worth it.

It's important to see just how Santana got to the point of Chapter 1.

And although I appreciate the enthusiasm, I don't plan on spoiling anything! Even though your desperate pleading makes me smile. (or cackle with evil laughter.)

I don't have a set schedule for posting but I am trying my best to post weekly. Just don't bite my head off if that changes sometimes.

Anyways, I hope you like the chapter!

~Kay

* * *

**Five years earlier…**

"New York is going to be the best." Santana reassured herself for the twentieth time that afternoon. After a fifteen hour train ride and sleep-worthy conversation with a returning NYU student, she finally made it to the big city. This was probably the part where she was supposed to feel super excited or at least borderline enthused.

It's the place where she supposed to find—what was it again?

People who were like her.

A community of her own.

A _real_ girlfriend.

With a bitter snort, she climbed the last step out of Penn Station and into Midtown Manhattan. It was weird being there without the Glee kids prancing around here. Or maybe it was a just a lot better without them.

Of course she would be reunited with some of the choir losers very shortly.

"Not choir losers," She reminded herself, "Rachel and Kurt, Rachel and Kurt."

They would probably appreciate it if she held off on her favorite nicknames until after the first night. That was probably the most she could promise them though. She was a judgmental bitch and they knew it so what was the point in holding back anything. There would be too much to critique them on when she got there anyways. God only knew what they deemed appropriate apartment decorations. The loft was probably filled with buckets of glitter and shrines to Broadway.

Tightening the hold on her luggage, she flagged a waiting cab near the station and riddled off the address.

Who the hell thought living in Bushwick was a good idea anyways?

* * *

Standing around the creepy hallway made Santana suddenly afraid to see what type of student squalor she was about to walk into. Even though she visited a month earlier, she hadn't really taken the time to look around and inspect anything. She was too busy teasing Quinn about her professor drama and getting yelled at when she tried to throw Rachel's movie collection out a window.

Another quick glance had her wondering if the hanging light bulbs and decaying brick walls were always there.

She also worried if she would even be welcome inside their loft. Despite her rocky history with both Rachel and Kurt, she thought they were at least attempting to establish a friendship built on trust…or at least tolerance.

Hopefully that would be enough.

Taking a deep breathe, Santana lifted up her fist and pounded on the beat-up door with urgency. It only took a few seconds before the door slid open to reveal Kurt looking completely shocked in the doorway. Rachel looked equally frozen standing by the small kitchen table.

"Santana…what are you doing here?" Kurt asked quickly, his jaw hanging open.

Raising her eyebrows and smirking, she ignored the question and strutted past him, her luggage rolling behind her.

She paused in the middle of the room and twisted around, her shoulder rising nonchalantly at their equally baffled expressions.

"I'm moving in." She said simply.

It was beyond amusing to watch Rachel and Kurt's shared petrified faces.

"Moving in _here_?" Kurt squeaked, his hand pressed against his heart.

"No, next door." She replied slowly, her eyes rolling dramatically.

"Um, I think what Kurt means to say is…well…why here? I mean…why New York, why now?" Rachel quickly rephrased, already feeling the growing tension in the room.

"I dropped out of Kentucky. Where's your bathroom?"

Kurt raised a shaky hand and gestured to the bathroom, his eyes following her retreating form.

"There are more bags in the hallway by the way. Feel free to stop standing there catching flies." She shouted, her voice trailing away with every step.

Shaking out of their stupor, Kurt and Rachel shoved each other violently in a mad dash to leave the apartment. Kurt slammed the door behind him and almost tripped over the giant duffle bags that littered their hallway.

Rachel looked like she was about to cry.

"What…I mean…is this..is this real life?" Kurt sputtered, his hands waving frantically at the bags in front of them.

"I knew having Santana come visit me last month was going to haunt me. This is all your fault Kurt! Clearly she has just done some heinous crime and is hiding out in our apartment until the authorities come. Or..or maybe this is just a nightmare and I'm going to wake up any minute now." Rachel said, her eyes instantly shutting.

"A _shared _nightmare, Rachel?" Kurt hissed, forcing Rachel to open them and glare.

"Okay, well what do you intend for us to do, Kurt?"

Kurt wanted to respond with a simple yet elegant 'hell no' but something made him pause.

Clearly Santana left Kentucky and home for reason and there were plenty of logical ones he could sympathize with. After graduation, she chose a path that kept her close to everything she cared about, Glee club and Brittany.

And who could relate more to that than him?

It wasn't too long ago that he had committed himself to a life with Blaine that kept him slinging coffees at the Lima Bean and visiting the halls of McKinley like a pathetic ghost. And look how well that turned out.

Santana probably came here to start over and that was something he could understand.

"Hello, earth to Kurt! I asked you what we are going to do?!" Rachel screeched, shaking him out of his quiet musings.

"I think—I think we should hear her out and see what's been going on. I mean, Santana has gotten better over the years…maybe this won't be so bad."

"Although I agree that our relationship with Santana, though tumultuous in the beginning, has blossomed into one of equal—well somewhat equal respect, I really doubt we can all live together Kurt."

"She came all the way from Kentucky to save you the horror and embarrassment of going nude in a crappy student film."

"She also told me I have skeeter bites for breasts."

Frowning at that forced imagery, Kurt tried to go in another direction.

"Think of it as an acting exercise. This is probably only temporary. We'll just pretend to get along for a few days and then she's out of our hair. Maybe she'll be out before Mr. Schuester's wedding next week."

Huffing out a dramatic sigh, Rachel glanced at the door leading to their once peaceful loft and tried to picture a Santana she could live with. One who enjoyed her five a.m. vocal runs in the shower or creating new vegan dishes on their Tasting Tuesdays. Or would wait in line with her for student rush tickets to see a Broadway play, their breathless laughter filling the air after scoring first row seats to their favorite show.

Then she pictured the actual Santana throwing sharp razors from her hair while she ran away screaming.

In the spirit of becoming a new, better version of herself and fostering the tentative friendship she was trying to build with Santana, she finally agreed.

"Okay…we'll hear her out at least. But we will find out **exactly** when she's leaving and she better be satisfied with the sofa bed. I need at least eight hours of sleep on my temper-pedic bed in order to be at my absolute best for NYADA.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt nodded his agreement and lifted up one of the duffle bags at his feet. His shoulder immediately felt like it was going to pop out of its socket. With a grunt he didn't think he was capable of, he slid open their door and dragged the bag inside, wheezing with every step.

Santana was already waiting for them on the car seat they managed to turn into a functional living room chair. She appeared very unconcerned with Kurt's haggard appearance or Rachel's loud complaints behind him.

As soon as the rest of the bags were brought in they walked over to the couch and plopped down, their attention now focused on her.

"Since we just committed ourselves to a few days with icy hot after carrying in your thousand pound bags, I think you owe us an actual explanation now." Kurt said, rubbing his shoulders tenderly.

"First of all, I carried all of those bags in myself Lady Hummel, so excuse me if you and Babs have the combined arm strength of a doily. And secondly, I already told you that I quit school."

"Why?" Rachel asked, ignoring her insults.

"Because the lesbian community was severely lacking. The gay population went down to zero right after I managed to drive the hell out of there."

I really doubt that Santana. How about a serious answer before we seriously consider letting you live here."

Santana bit back a retort, her brain quickly registering that she needed them more than they needed her.

"Because…because I hated it, okay?! I hated everything about it. I left one hick town for another and at least we have the Lima Bean. The cheerleaders were bigger bitches than me and that is saying something. The weekends were nothing but keg parties with obnoxious jocks who couldn't take the hint that I wasn't interested. Oh, and my classes were bullshit. Why the hell would I pay for Calculus? When is that ever going to come in handy?!" Santana ranted, her arms crossing in front of her.

Rachel and Kurt just stared at her.

"Listen, I'm too talented and good-looking for Kentucky and Ohio, we all know that. I'm supposed to be doing something that's bigger than life in those shitty places. And I thought since I did you a favor last month, you could return it and let me stay here until I figure it out. There was nothing holding me back in Kentucky…and now there's nothing holding me to Lima." She said finally, her voice trailing off until a silence filled the room.

Rachel's heart clenched at the heartache echoing in Santana's voice. It was probably what her own voice sounded like when she mentioned Finn.

"Of course you can stay here Santana…for as long as you need," Rachel reassured her before continuing. "But there are a few rules I would like to establish in order to keep the peace. Starting with our individual morning routines. I get the shower—"

"Stop it! I just traveled on the train ride from hell and then took a cab to this loft in Bushwick Narnia. Can we save the lecture until I'm awake enough to ignore it properly?"

"I guess…" Rachel trailed off.

"Well we were going to grab a late dinner at this Italian restaurant down the block if you want to join us." Kurt offered.

"Sounds perfect, Wonder Twins."

* * *

After a surprisingly fun dinner filled with laughter and reminiscing, the trio made their way back to the apartment in one piece. With a tired yawn, Rachel gathered some blankets and pillows in her arms before dumping them on the couch and offering a good night.

Kurt stood silently in the living room and watched Santana get the sofa ready to sleep on.

Finally he spoke.

"So…you stayed in Lima for a few days before coming here, right?" Kurt asked quietly even though he already knew the answer.

"I did." Santana confirmed, trying not to roll her eyes at his predictability.

"Did you..um…see Blaine before you left then?"

"Did I see the other teen gay? Of course I did."

"How did he look? I mean..not that I really care. I have someone I'm sort-of seeing now anyways and—"

"He looked surprisingly great." Santana interrupted. "Not that I saw much of his face. He was too busy shoving it in front of some new guy in Glee club. They were making out the whole time. It was super gross to witness, trust me. His hair didn't move an single inch even though the guy kept jamming his fingers in it."

Kurt looked horrified.

"I'm kidding, Kurt. He looked annoyingly sad and pathetic. Pretty sure he was starting the first forever alone club at McKinley when I left."

"Good," Kurt said quickly before backtracking, "I mean, not that I want to him to be sad or alone or anything."

Santana just gave him a sad smile before lying on the bed and grabbing her laptop.

Seeing it as a sign he was dismissed for the night, Kurt felt oddly bold enough to ask another question.

"Did you see her too?"

"I did."

"….and how is she doing?"

"She wasn't sad…or alone." Santana said, her eyes never leaving her laptop screen.

Sensing he was treading on dangerous water, Kurt walked out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

As soon as he left the room, Santana clicked on Facebook and waited for it to finish loading. As much as she pretended not to care about the Glee clubbers, she always secretly enjoyed seeing what they were up to. Not that it was ever interesting.

Mercedes was working with some hotshot producer in L.A.

_Good luck with that Weezy._

Puck was shotgunning a Natty Ice for every page of his screenplay he completed. It was impossible to tell if his spelling mistakes were an example of his drinking or just being Puck.

_Idiot._

Tina was asking how to get the smell of Vapor rub off her hands.

_Gross._

With a tired snort, Santana scrolled down further for a few minutes until something caught her eye.

Brittany S. Pears. _In a relationship with _Sam Evans_._

Seems like Brittany felt it was safe enough to post her relationship status online, especially now that Santana was officially out of the picture.

She instantly felt a familiar flash of anger flare up as she glared at the words in front of her.

_How dare she?_

It took Brittany no time to get over their unofficial break-up and throw herself at Sam like their entire senior year together was nothing. _Like she was nothing._

Now she gets to redo the entire year with Sam by her side.

Why after all this time did it still feel like she was coming in second place to a boy that wasn't worth the ground Brittany walked on.

Eventually her anger subsided enough to reveal another emotion.

Complete and utter heartache.

"New York is going to be the worst." She thought bitterly before slamming her laptop closed and succumbing to sleep.


End file.
